Day 2: Red and yellow leaves

One pocket full, now between the dictionary pages to flatten for a project for my Noticing journal.  I'm curious to discover if they will retain their colors if sealed under a layer of matte medium. 

To fit in with my forever CIRCLES theme, I also found this beautiful card of buttons at a thrift shop. 

Red and yellow leaves and cards of buttons, both remind me of my childhood in Georgia, along with the smell of backyard piles of leaves burning, some man wearing a straw hat overseeing his bonfire holding a rusty rake. 

Carlene made every garment I ever wore, and we spent happy hours in the fabric department of McConnels perusing buttons, patterns, zippers and cloth.  

I bought my 1982 Miriam Webster dictionary for 75 cents at a thrift shop. Before online dictionaries took over, these books were heavy as bricks and illustrated with fine little drawings and photographs.  

After folding pages for a handmade book, you need to press the signatures overnight under a brick or heavy book, and this dictionary with two cookbooks on top is my presser. 

Looking for a particular shape or color on a walk is---I kid you not!--as much fun as discovering jewels in a haystack might be.  The scavenger hunt nature of looking FOR something gives an added layer of enjoyment to walking the dog. While she's sniffing every bush and twig for evidence that another animal has been here before her, I'm collecting little treasures to take home. 

The Book of Noticing

In Winder, Georgia, I bought a beautiful journal (made in the U.K. by Sukie Company), the cover hand-marbled in teals and tans .  

Have you ever bought a blank book that was too pretty to write in?  

This one is like a potential new friend, and I've just been waiting for the right time to strike up a conversation.  

So here it is, "The Book of Noticing."  

If you want to play along, here's how it works: Pick a color or object.  Throughout the day, take pictures of it, draw it, or write about it.  

Or just wait until the end of the day and write about one unexpected thing that caught your eye or called out to you.

My first entry is about acorns.  I didn't plan it, but I returned from a walk with Luci with my sweater pockets filled with copper, brown and gold acorn tops.  Perfect little bowls, no two alike. 

          My new blue journal (and some entries here on the blog) will be about noticing. 

Here's the epigraph by Mary Oliver:

"Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it."

"I'm not in love with money"

Don has owned a little vacuum cleaner shop on West Avenue for forty-something years.  The only thing I've ever purchased from him are bags, but I have been there numerous times for help with my Dyson.  He never charges me--and most of the people in line.

"No charge," he says, " Just tax, which on zero for the governor is zero." 

After my several minor fixes or tutorials, he walks me out to the car and plays with Luci.  

I asked him today why he doesn't charge, and he said, "I'm just not in love with money, but I do love seeing people get something for free."

His customers leave happy, and that's what matters to him.  

I asked him how he liked Dysons, and he said, "I love them.  My repair shop is full of them and that's where I make my money, along with selling products."

He then showed me the cordless vacuums he likes best, and when it's time for a new one, I'll go to Don's.

"I'm living a happy life," he said.  "I have forty acres with three ponds on it and my grandchildren love to go there.  I have everything I need."

Sometimes an encounter with one generous man (who still loves his work after all these years) is the icing on the the cake of a beautiful day.

Blog is Back

Since July, this blog's door has been closed. Finally, today, Day spent an hour or two opening the door. 

This is a scattershot blog without a theme--though I'm thinking up a few possible ones.  It began 11 years ago when I celebrated turning 65 by driving solo in my Mini Cooper to the west coast.  By the time that trip was over, I'd already moved in here with all its comfy furniture and open windows, so I just kept writing.  

Gerlinde Pyron has been one of my most loyal readers, and she often wrote me notes responding to posts. Because of that, I always had her in mind as I wrote.

I was so saddened to learn from our mutual friend Barbel that Gerlinde died two weeks ago. The two of them had been friends for almost 60 years. Both moved here from Germany when they were  young--around 17 or 18--and neither spoke English. Both learned the language and built careers and friendships in Texas and beyond.

Gerlinde was a wonderful writer.  She published a memoir about her childhood: Shadows and Joys of a Life in Bavaria.  She also wrote long and newsy emails that I treasured and re-read each time one landed in my box:

Here is an excerpt from a recent email:

One of my go-to’s while being so troubled by this mean-spirited political climate is to go back to the past, all the way to 1776 and read histories that give me some perspective and understanding to make sense of this time. The most helpful to read at this point is Joseph Ellis’s enlightening and wise book: “American Dialogue”.  I also loved the Hamilton book which is so fascinating. Particularly when you read how hateful Jefferson and  Madison were toward Washington’s protégé and trusted friend which  Hamilton was for him.

While English was not her native language, she--like Barbel--mastered it impressively.  (I could never beat Barbel in Scrabble!). Gerlinde and I shared a love of reading and often discussed books via email.

During the last few years, she rarely met friends for outings, as she devoted every day to caring for Tim, her husband.  She drove him to doctors' appointments and took care of him at home as he fought cancer and dementia.  In spite of everything, she said he never departed from his characteristic kindness and easy-going nature. 

Gerlinde loved flowers and nature.  Last spring she sent me this photo of her backyard filled with poppies.  A lover of books, painting, gardening, cooking, and a Christmas tree loaded with ornaments, Gerlinde was a memorable creative and generous friend.